Hermione Singer
by AalisEliza
Summary: Hermione Granger leaves the British Enclave following the conclusion of the Second Wizarding War. MACUSA happily extends citizenship to the young witch and educates her about the supernatural creatures infecting the continent. Of course her decision to avoid all of them goes awry.
1. I Open at the Close

_This series was created after I wrote Dean's reaction in Hermione's Hounds about finding out Sam and Hermione remembered the alternate universe. The more I worked on this, the more it became it's own piece. So instead of being tied to Hermione's Hounds, this is a standalone drabble series. _

* * *

Harry Potter met Voldemort in battle at Hogwarts Wizarding School. It was the final skirmish of the second wizarding war, and neither Harry, nor Voldemort survived. When both sides realized neither of their "leaders" had lived, chaos erupted. Death Eaters began massacring students with impunity, while members of both sides fled.

The death count was astronomical, and the effort to rebuild the British Enclave was delayed with funerals and fear of reprisal. Many survivors, like Hermione Granger, chose to simply leave entirely.

The young witch told no one of her plans as she applied for asylum with MACUSA, nor did she share when they granted her citizenship in an unprecedented speed. Her new government didn't have to tell her why they'd chosen to fast track her application. Despite the lack of assistance from the international wizarding community, knowledge of the in the British Enclave had spilled past the borders and into other countries.

Hermione received the revelation with apathy. She'd buried too many friends and family to bother reacting to the news that it hadn't been necessary. In the dark recesses of her mind, Hermione already knew that the deaths were avoidable, but unfortunately, power corrupts. A group of school boys chose to set their world on fire for a taste of power and a misguided belief of superiority.

Arriving at Ellis Island's portkey checkpoint, Hermione Granger was ushered into the naturalization process for magical immigrants. The efficiency of the progress astounded her, but the inclusion of Supernatural Classes positively fascinated the young witch.

Unlike the United Kingdom, America was home to thousands of supernatural creatures, all of whom differed greatly from Magical Creatures and Beings. Hermione rediscovered her love for learning, and delved into the information, memorizing as much as she could. Despite the amount of interest she held in the subject, Hermione decidedly want to avoid all manner of supernatural beings.

MACUSA helped her settle down in Columbus, Ohio. A city large enough to disappear in and have a small wizarding district. At least that's how they described it to her originally. Once she moved there, Hermione learned that the wizarding district was interwoven throughout the muggle one. Certain shops catered to both magical and muggle alike, with hidden sections for the magically inclined. Other magical shops were set up directly adjacent to muggle ones, with the relevant magic to deter muggles.

It was fascinating.

For nearly four months, Hermione did nothing, but explore her new city. Each day she'd discover a new hidden gem, and not think about the death and devastation she'd escaped. Nearly four peaceful months, she'd evaded Harry's unfortunate penchant for attracting danger.

It was four months of bliss, until she answered the door today and came face to face with two hunters.

"Afternoon ma'am," the man greeted her when she'd cracked the door open. He and his partner were both holding up an excellent forgery of an FBI badge for her to see. "I'm agent Robbins, this is Agent Baskins. We're investigating a few deaths in the area, and would like to ask you a few questions."

"Baskins and Robbins," Hermione repeated, skeptically examine the two men. Agent Robbins gave her a sheepish grin.

"Our boss has a sense of humor," he explained.

"I'll say," Agent Baskins muttered. "I'm lactose intolerant."

"Have you seen anything odd?" Agent Robbins asked after rolling his eyes at his partner's comment. "Anyone appear out of place or just acting strange?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. I'm new to the area though, so I'd probably wouldn't have noticed anyone acting out of sorts."

The inquisition went on far longer than Hermione was comfortable with enduring. Each time she thought she'd cleverly ended their line of questions, one of the

would think of yet another. The witch didn't relax until both men had left her flat, and she was sure that they weren't monitoring her.

"Fuck," Hermione muttered under her breath. She would have to be exceedingly careful until both hunters left town. No deviations from her routine, or Merlin forbid, bolting for it. She'd never get rid of them then. She remained undisturbed for two more days.

Each Saturday morning, Hermione walked down to the local farmer's market to buy fresh produce for the upcoming week. It gave her a chance to meet more of her neighbors, and explore her community.

Walking up to her front door, the bag of groceries slipped from her grasp and crashed to the floor. Her wand was in her hand, before she realized she summoned it. Habits developed during the war ensured she had already put a silence charm over herself before slipping past the door.

"Bloody hell," Hermione muttered as she cast a _homineum revelio_ charm silently. It came back with only one ding, identifying that she was alone. The destruction of her flat, however, told her that someone certainly had broken in. Shattered glass; shards of windows, mirrors, and all of her dishes covered every inch of her floors. Her books lay in tattered pieces alongside the glass, broken spines of beloved novels. Throw pillows and her furniture had their stuffing ripped out and tossed carelessly away.

Not even magic could repair the damage to her home. She was nearly in the center of the sitting room when her Occlumency Shields were attacked. Blinding pain focused on her mind sent her plummeting to her knees. Glass embedded itself sharply into her palms and knees, yet all she could feel was the violent attempt of turning her mental shields into ribbons.

Had Hermione remained cognizant of her surroundings, she would have realized two men were frantically searching through the debris of her flat. Instead the witch was lying prone moaning while she poured her magical reserves into preserving her mental shields.

The scent of smoke filtered into her nostrils first. Then the pain in her hands and knees filled into her pain receptors. The very last thing Hermione noticed was the man talking to her and attempting to help her stand.

"Bobby! Bobby I found another one!"

"Burn it!" Bobby, the man assisting her, called back.

"Don't!" Hermione ordered, gasping the word out. "There's a box on the kitchen island. Lead lined."

"Rufus, bring it in here," Bobby called, helping her walk over to the kitchen counter. Hermione was grateful that he'd understood her intention. When his companion joined them, Bobby emptied out the contents of the hex bag and then slammed the lid shut. Hermione watched as they burned the bag. It lit up in blue flames.

"Who do I kill?" Hermione asked stowing her wand in its halter. She slowly pulled shards of glass out of her palms, wincing at the stinging sensation it caused. Neither hunter had managed an answer by the time she'd retrieved an unopened bottle of Johnny Walker Blue whiskey, though Rufus' eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.

"We haven't quite worked that out yet," Bobby admitted as the girl tossed a healthy gulp of whiskey back before she handed the bottle to Rufus. "I do have to say miss, you're taking this awfully well. Most people tend to be freaked out when they're attacked."

"It loses the shock value when it happens repeatedly," Hermione answered. "Now it just pisses me off. Fucking borrowers."

"Borrowers?" Rufus asked passing the bottle to Bobby. "What the hell is a Borrower?"

"I thought you were hunters," Hermione said looking at them suspiciously.

"We are," Bobby answered. "Still never heard of a Borrower."

"They're a type of witch," Hermione answered grimacing. "At least they use the moniker. In reality, they're far closer to Warlocks."

"Warlocks?"

"Warlocks get their powers from making a pact with either, pagans, fairies, demons, etc. Anything with the ability to give them power. However, if you piss off your new deity, poof, powers gone. Borrowers are similar in that they get their

from a deal. Except they only make those deals with demons, often stupidly trade their souls, and only have access to a few shitty parlour tricks."

"You a hunter too?" Rufus asked, sounding skeptical. "You seem awfully well read about the current situation."

"No," Hermione answered, before pulling her wand out and setting it on the kitchen island. "I'm not a hunter. I'm authentic."

"You going to poke someone's eye out with a stick?" Rufus asked as Bobby glared at him. "What? She's got excellent taste, figured she deserved a little leeway."

Hermione rolled her eyes and blasted a hole in the nearest wall, before turning back to the two men.

"Yes. I use this to poke people's eyes out," she answered.

"She's a mage, you idjit," Bobby said before pulling the bottle of whiskey out of Rufus' hands. "Except, mages supposedly died out during the Dark Ages. Clearly that was a lie."

"We concealed ourselves from Muggles, those without magic, considering several covens of Borrowers and Students incited the witch hunts to begin," Hermione answered. "We aren't taught to control our magic until age eleven, and after several families died protecting their children, the Statute of Secrecy was enacted internationally."

"You expect that many people to keep a secret?" Rufus asked.

"When the punishment is prison, guarded by soul sucking wraiths," Hermione said, "then yes."

"Exactly how are you going to avoid magical prison since you're telling us about it?" Bobby asked earning a bit of grin from the witch.

"MACUSA, the Magical Congress of the United States, created a law that classifies all hunters as employees of theirs who are vital to containing supernatural creatures, which prey upon innocent civilians, both magical and non-magical, and preventing unnecessary deaths. It's a clever loophole."

"They seem to have forgotten to pay me," Rufus muttered. "Think they'll honor back pay?"

Bobby ignored him to ask, "What exactly are Students?"

"An unexplained enigma," Hermione answered. "Thy manage to master magic by studying it. There are theories that magic is sentient, and the existence of students certainly seems to support it. Most students end up blowing themselves up or burning out their magic by trying a spell they can't control. The last group is also the rarest, Naturals, simply have magic. We try to catch them early on, and then most of our world simply assumes they're just another muggleborn."

"What about the students? Can't you help them too?"

"We've no way to track their magic," Hermione said, sadness coloring her tone. "That's who we find Naturals, because when they're young enough, their magical outbursts trigger our underage detection wards. If a Student gets our attention….it's usually because they've gone too far and have to be put down."

"Like a dog?" Bobby asked grimacing.

"The magic that they practice is just like that of Borrowers. They only difference is that they don't have a demon corrupting their souls. They all use the same ritual magic, slaughtering animals, for example. Now granted, there are some potion ingredients that are rather gross, like rat spleen, but we have apothecaries which are regulated by our governments. You can't just walk around slaughtering animals in your house to get a magical curse. In fact, the vast majority of our potions industry is heavily regulated, to prevent certain substances from being peddled."

"It's all unnatural," Rufus muttered. "Rat spleen, gross, what's next Eye of Newt?"

"Belladonna and Arsenic are both natural, but they'll still kill you," Hermione pointed out. "Besides, Eye of Newt is actually a mustard seed. It became a popularized _witchy_ ingredient after Shakespeare included it in Macbeth."

Neither Rufus or Hermione expected Bobby to erupt into laughter.

"You're a pistol girl," Bobby said.

"Thanks, I think," she said as she tapped the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. Rufus and Bobby's eyes widened as they watched it become instantly full again.

"Did she just…" Rufus asked before his voice trailed off.

"Yes," Bobby said. Rufus was the first to snatch the bottle and take a drink. He wordlessly handed the bottle to Bobby while he stared at Hermione like he'd found God.

"How do you feel about older men?" Rufus demanded.

"Keep it in your pants iidjit," Bobby said, rolling his eyes. "We've got more important things than fueling your alcoholism."

"Don't suppose you have a witchcatcher handy?" Rufus asked.

"No," Bobby answered. "Nor would it be helpful in this case."

"Just making a suggestion," Rufus said holding his hands up.

"A stupid suggestion," Bobby muttered. "Easiest would be a bullet to the head. Aside from that, I don't know, fire?"

Wordlessly, Hermione conjured her signature blue bell flames in the palm of her wand hand.

"Neat trick," Bobby said as the flames went out. "We should head back to our motel room. All of the information we've gathered is there, and you can't stay here."

Hermione didn't argue. Instead, she pulled her beaded bag out of her pocket and shoved the lead box into it. Before she left with the two hunters, Hermione summoned the single picture frame that was in the flat. Bobby and Rufus watched silently as the photograph of three teenagers was pushed inside.

The witch didn't bother looking back as she followed Bobby and Rufus out.


	2. Devil's Trap

"A storm's coming, and you boys...your daddy, ya'll are smack dab in the middle of it," Bobby said gravely with a slight shake of his head. As the implication of his words permeated into the brains of both Winchesters, the three hunters jumped when Bobby's dog Rumsfeld howled, before suddenly whimpering. The front door of Bobby's house, blasted off its hinges, splinters of wood flying towards them, to reveal an irate blonde woman.

"No more crap okay?" Meg snarled, before throwing Dean into the far wall. "I said no more crap! I want the Colt Sam, the real Colt, right now."

"We don't have it on us," Sam answered, almost cowering against Bobby.

"Didn't I say no more crap?" Meg hissed, glaring at him. "I swear, after everything I've heard about you Winchesters, I've got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real one with you two chuckle heads. Lackluster men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually," Dean interrupted from behind Meg, causing her to pivot and stare at him, "We were counting on it."

She looked up at his prompting to see a large Devil's Trap on the ceiling above her, and cursed. The grin on Dean's face was confirmation enough that she was trapped.

The exorcism the three hunters began, didn't phase the demon. It was obvious that Sam and Dean Winchester didn't know what they were doing, and the old man with them was more concerned with the body she was inhabiting than actually removing her from it. Unfortunately, as Sam grew more confident in his speaking, pain danced up her skin, as if red ants were biting her over and over again.

"Where is he?!"

"Dead," Meg answered through clenched teeth. "He died screaming. I killed himself."

"That's kind of a turn on, you hitting a girl," Meg mocked breathily after she recovered from Dean's fist hitting her face. "Dean had I known how dominant you were, I'd have gone after you, not Sam. Ropes, spanking, and an audience? You're finally becoming interesting."

"Dean you're letting her distract you," Bobby said pulling the hunter's focus away from the demon.

"Ab insidis diaboli, libera nos, domine," Sam continued reading out loud, pulling another pained shriek out of Meg.

"He will be!"

"What?" Dean asked, interrupting Sam.

"He's not dead yet," Meg wheezed, "But he will be, after we're done with him."

"It's a house! Jefferson...it's in Jefferson City, but that's all I know," Meg admitted when the pain wouldn't stop.

"Keep going Sam," Dean said coldly as he stared directly into Meg's eyes.

"You promised!"

"I lied," Dean answered harshly. "Finish it Sammy."

No one inside the house heard the loud crack of thunder, which did not shake the house, over Meg and Dean screaming at each other and Sam's chanting. Nor did they hear a feminine shriek out Rumsfeld's name. In fact, none of the hunters or the demon realized anyone had joined them until Dean was blasted away from Meg, and the book ripped itself out of Sam's hands.

"Mia?" Bobby asked in a stunned voice, looking at the tiny brunette. "Balls!"

"What the fuck?!" Dean bellowed, standing and brushing himself off, "I am sick of being thrown into drywall!"

"Are you out of your bloody mind?" Hermione asked Sam angrily, completely ignoring Dean's outburst. The younger Winchester sputtered at the girl before finally blurting out that it wasn't what it looked like.

"She's a demon," Sam insisted.

"You're killing her!"

"Open your ears sweetheart," Dean said. "We're exercising the black eyed bitch. The blonde girl is possessed. Bobby who the fuck is this?"

"Your Latin is abysmal!" Hermione continued berating Sam, while entirely ignoring Dean's interruptions. "You're fucking up the pronunciation, and it's killing the girl. Not only are you giving the demon time to dig in further to her body and soul, but you're actively torturing her body!"

"What?" Sam asked stunned at the information he'd just been given.

"By butchering the Latin, you're torturing the girl further, and the demon is just enjoying twisting her soul further," Hermione explained as Meg grinned at the brunette in front of her.

"The fuck are you smiling for?" Dean demanded.

"Your girlfriend's right," Meg answered with a taunting shrug. "Why do you think demons ensured the fall of Rome? We were sick of that fucking language."

"Shit," Sam muttered before looking over at Bobby and his brother.

"Poor helpless Dean. Can't save his daddy, can't even perform an exorcism without his brother's whore. Pathetic," Meg sneered before turning towards Hermione. "I can't believe you're wasting my time with this shit."

The demon suddenly and visibly choked violently, as her eyes widened as she stared at Hermione.

"Watch your mouth," Hermione threatened just before Meg spit on her. "Suit yourself. Regna terrae, cantate deo, psallite domino," the brunette recited, pronouncing each word perfectly. As she spoke, Meg rapidly began seizing in her chair.

"Tribuite virtutem deo," Behind her the three men stared as she removed the demon in record time. It was over almost as soon as it began. The blonde girl slumped forward as blood dripped from her mouth and the Winchesters surged forward to untie her.

"Thank you," Meg's host wheezed.

"Shh, just take it easy," Sam said as they carefully moved her.

"Do you know where our dad is?" Dean asked, only managing to fire off the first question before Hermione shoved him aside.

"It's been a year," the girl said as Hermione pointed her wand, muttering diagnostic charms. As the witch frantically healed the broken body in front of her, she told Bobby to call an ambulance, unaware that Dean had pulled a gun on her.

"Don't son," Bobby ordered, pressing his own gun into the back of Dean's head. "Put the gun down, slowly."

"Bobby?' Sam asked, his eyes darting between the two girls and the hunters. "What's going on?"

"I don't take kindly to people pulling guns on my niece," Bobby answered. "Put the gun down. Now. It ain't a request."

"Not until I know what she's doing!"

"Mia's trying to heal her, you idjit!" Bobby said. "Now I suggest you do as she said and call an ambulance. Now!"

Bobby didn't take his eyes either Winchester until well after Meg had been taken to the hospital. Hermione, exhausted from how much magic she'd expended trying to keep Meg alive slumped at the kitchen table nursing a beer. Dean stewed silently seething while Sam watched him concerned.

Predictably, the older Winchester erupted, "What the hell Bobby? You pulled a gun on me for some fake niece? Are you kidding? Did you really think we'd buy that crackpot of shit? We grew up here, and all of us know that you got no surviving family."

"Family don't end in blood boy," Bobby growled at him.

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," Hermione said, earning a glare from Dean.

"I don't talk to whores," Dean said sneering. "Witches are worse than demons!"

Before Sam or Bobby could correct Dean, Hermione reached over, snatching the back of the hunter's head and forcibly slammed it down against the table, resulting in a loud crunch. Dean bellowed in pain while Sam stared wide-eyed.

"Shit," Sam muttered at the sheer force the brunette had used to break Dean's nose. "You sure she's not your daughter?"

"I might promote her," Bobby said smirking. "It'd piss Rufus off to no end."

"Dufus?" Dean asked through a broken and bloody nose. Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered an _episkey_ towards his face, earning another shriek of pain from the hunter.

"What the fuck?!"

"I can always break it again," Hermione offered him sweetly, while twirling her wand.

"How'd you know the proper pronunciation of Latin?" Sam asked trying to break the tension between the two and earning an approving nod from Bobby along with a beer. Dean reached for one as well, clearly expecting Bobby to pass one his way, and only received a sharp glare.

"Boarding school," Hermione answered. "It's foundational, and has been since the school was founded in the 10th century."

"Practicing magic rituals probably doesn't hurt either," Dean muttered.

"Considering the foundation of most magic used in the British Enclave is based in Latin, you're correct. Not to mention we typically have longer life spans, my people never lost the ability to speak Latin correctly."

"Fucking witch."

"Bugger off, you ignorant fuck. You've made your opinion quite clear, despite the obvious fact that you've only encountered Borrowers before. Considering I'm not one of those filth, I suggest you stop insulting me."

"Borrowers?" Sam asked.

"Demonic witches," Bobby explained. "Mia, here, is a True Born Mage. Their born with their magic, and I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue. I'd of warned you all, but I didn't expect Mia back for a few more days. Rufus still breathing?"

"Grumpily," Hermione answered. "We successfully cleaned out the next and rescued two little girls. Rufus was incredibly off put when they asked if he was Prince Charming, and then demanded to know why they had to share."

"As delightful as this catch up is," Dean interrupted, "Dad's still being held captive by Demons, and our only lead is little more than a vegetable!"

"Oh!" Hermione said. "Meg managed to share some information about the activities of the demon's activities. I wasn't really sure what to make of it, but she was quite insistent about a man being held by demons, near a river and the word sunrise."

"That's it?" Dean scoffed. "What's that even supposed to mean?"

"You're lucky her brain wasn't mush after being possessed for a year and then enduring a half arsed exorcism," Hermione snapped. "The fact that I managed to get that much is a miracle."

"She's not being facetious is she?" Sam muttered to Bobby while Dean and Hermione continued arguing.

"Nope. Girl's dead useful when it comes to hunting. Your brother is going to regret making an ass out of himself."


	3. Everybody Loves a Clown

The Winchester boys never did return to Singer Salvage Yard with their father, John. Instead, both reappeared with crushed hearts and festering wounds, long after Bobby had returned with the Impala. Upon gazing at the destroyed family car, Hermione knew the circumstances were dire, but it wasn't until the boy's returned that she and bobby realized how deep the devastation ran.

Bobby and Hermione worked in tandem to keep both Winchesters well fed, while they healed from the injuries and processed John's death. The boys regained their lost weight, and it took no time at all for Dean's anger to boil over indiscriminate of the direction it spilled. Bobby growled at him, Sam shrank into himself, and Hermione relished each fight, often reducing Dean to threats of "shooting the witch." In those moments, Dean would catch Sam struggling not to smile while he watched Hermione banish or summon Dean's guns away before hitting him with a stinging hex.

While Hermione provided Dean with a much needed outlet for his anger and grief, Bobby focused on Sam. The younger Winchester had always been more introverted of the family, and Bobby wasn't about to leave the boy up to his own devices. Rather, Bobby began giving Sam the responsibility of phone duty and within the first hour, he was buried in research. Bobby couldn't help the surge of pride when Sam would rapidly fire off lore over the phones to hunters actively working cases or lie to the law about a hunter's fake credentials.

Hermione was curled up on Bobby's front porch swing with a book and a beer when Sam stumbled out with his own bottle. He silently stalked over to her and lifted her feet before sitting down next to her and dropping her legs on his lap. They drank in silence while Sam rocked the swing with his feet. When his beer was nearly three-fourths empty, Hermione absentmindedly refilled it with her wand.

"Neat trick," Sam said looking at the bottle in his hand.

"Rufus propositioned me after he saw me do it," Hermione told him earning a laugh from Sam.

"He probably imagined you supplying him with a lifetime supply of his favorite whiskey."

"It was a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue," Hermione confided in him. Sam began laughing harder, to the point that he had tears leaking out of his eyes.

"I'm shocked he didn't propose."

"Honestly, knowing Rufus, he probably was," Hermione said as they both laughed. "Hunters don't strike me as all that romantic."

It was refreshing to see Sam laughing for once this week. Hermione watched the weariness melt off his face to reveal true joy, even if it didn't last long enough.

"I always knew he'd die hunting," Sam said staring out into the junkyard. "Dad's always been reckless, to the point of stupidity really, and rarely considered the consequences of his actions. I've seen him use people as bait and not even tell them."

"Wow" Hermione mouthed silently.

"Yet, i never thought he'd be gone this soon. I keep waiting for him to call Dean and order us to some new city for a case he can't be bothered to work himself. I just talked to him about already calling Bobby about hauling the impala back here, and then he was collapsing. It just doesn't seem real." Sam lapsed into silence, and Hermione allowed him to, knowing he needed to process.

"I hated the man. Hated hunting, never getting to stay in one spot, never getting to experience one school longer than a few weeks, or celebrating holidays. I mean what kind of parent abandons his kids for weeks at a time in a motel room?"

"ABout the same as a parent who locks a child in a cupboard under the stairs and calls it their bedroom," Hermione answered, "Or a parent who forces their child into indentured servitude. One of my classmates endured utter hell because of his father's choices. He forced Draco to torture innocnets, often at the threat of his mother's life. Draco hated his father, but still sobbed when Lucius was executed for war crimes.

"Don't berate yourself for mourning your dad's death. You had very real reasons for feeling angry at him. Regardless of how you feel, just let yourself feel."

"I just can't believe Dean and I are alone. I mean where do we go from here?" Sam asked.

"Well that's just utter bollocks," Hermione scoffed. "Bobby would box your ears if he heard you say that, or have you forgotten that 'Family don't end in blood?' You're a pillock if you don't realize Bobby views you and Dean as his own kids.

"Well isn't this a chick flick moment," Dean interrupted, glaring at the two of them. "Snuggled up with the witch?"

"Dean" Sam said wearily.

"No it's fine Sam," Hermione interrupted. "The tosser's got his wand in a knot and can bugger off."

"Listen here witch -" Dean's voice cut off, though it was clear from the movement of his mouth that he was still talking.

"Dean?" Sam asked confused, until he heard Hermione snickering next to him.

"Sorry Dean," the witch laughed. "I can't read lips. If you want me to hear you, you'll have to speak up!"

Sam couldn't prevent the laughter that erupted from him at the murderous look on Dean's face. He grew concerned when Dean went to pull his gun, only to laugh harder when Dean realized it wasn't on him and began to frantically patted himself down.

"It's with Baby," Hermione told him before Dean stormed off in the direction of the Impala.

"How'd you manage to steal his gun?" Sam asked when he could breathe again.

" I didn't," Hermione admitted. "Bobby pick pocketed him earlier."

The admission only served to make Sam laugh harder.

The next morning, while Bobby was working the hunter phone lines and Hermione had gone to buy groceries, Sam approached his older brother. Unsurprisingly, Dean was laid out underneath the Impala, trying to breathe life back into the family car.

"How's the car coming along?"

"Slow," Dean answered without stopping his work.

"Yeah?" Sam asked. "Need any help?"

The thud of a tool hitting the ground, was answer enough, but Dean added, "What, you under a hood? I'll pass."

Sam smothered an exasperated sigh, "Need anything else then?"

"Stop it Sam," Dean ordered before he climbed out from underneath the vehicle.

"Stop what?"

"Stop asking if I need anything. Stop asking if I'm okay!" Dean answered. "I'm fine, really. I promise."

"Alright, Dean," Sam muttered before a spark of irritation hit him. "It's just...we've been at Bobby's for over a wee, and all you've done is work on the car and fight with Hermione."

"Don't talk about her," Dean growled.

"You haven't even mentioned Dad once!" Sam said.

"Alright," Dean said. "You know what, come here, and I'll lay my head gently on your shoulder. We can cry, hug, maybe we'll even slow dance!"

"Don't patronize me Dean! Dad's dead, the Colt's gone, it seemed pretty damn likely the demon's got it. Yet you're acting like nothing happened at all!"

"What do you want me to say Sammy?"

'Anything!" Sam bellowed. "Aren't you angry or do you just like yelling at Hermione? Don't you want revenge for Dad's death?"

"Revenge huh?" Dean asked, ignoring the jab Sam made.

"Yeah."

"Sounds good. Quick question, do you got any leads on where the demon is?" Dean asked. "Better yet, have you been able to make heads or tails of dad's research? Because I sure haven't, but if you do finally figure it out and find said demon, as you've pointed out, the Colt's gone. So have you come up with a new idea on how to kill him?

"No? Shocking! We've got nothing Sam, nothing alright? So guess what I can do? I can fix this car and fight with Bobby's witch!"

Sam swallowed his retort about Hermione, and instead focused on the original reason he'd decided to talk to Dean this morning.

"I cracked one of Dad's voicemail passwords."

Predictably his brother turned at the statement.

"Listen to this," Sam said shoving the phone towards Dean.

"Who's Ellen?"

"No clue, but I've got her address," Sam said.

"Ask Bobby if we can borrow a car," Dean answered.

* * *

Bobby was pouting on the front porch when Sam and Dean returned to Singer Salvage Yard from their trip to meet Ellen. Both boys eyed him speculatively before walking up the steps.

"What crawled up your ass?" Dean asked.

"Mia," Bobby groused, earning disgusted looks from the boys. "Not like that ya idjits."

"Finally realized you need to gank her?" Dean asked trying to shake the image of Hermione and Bobby from his head.

"Dude," Sam swore at him before turning back to Bobby. "Did you have a fight?"

"No," Bobby muttered petulantly. "She reorganized my study."

Sam and Dean broke out into laughter at how grumpy the older hunter spoke.

"I can't find anything now! She tossed a bunch of my stuff too. Girl didn't even bother to ask before she did it. Witch distracted me with a freshly baked pie, and waltzed away with half my stuff. Should've known there'd be a price for a homemade pie."

"Pie?" Dean repeated. Without waiting for an answer, he barged into the house.

"Witch?! Bobby said there was pie!"

Sam heard his brother cursed and laughed some more as he heard, "Fuck! Where's this pie woman?!"


	4. Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

Singer Salvage Yard became Dean and Sam's home base after enlisting Ash's help to hunt down the yellow eyed demon. Dean insisted on driving straight back to Bobby's after they wrapped up each case, regardless of the distance. Originally, Sam believed Dean when he insisted that, "Bobby's just too trusting," despite knowing that the older hunter was a paranoid bastard.

His first doubts manifested after Dean insisted, Sam begindriving less than fifteen minutes after leaving the salvage yard for a case. Sam waited patiently in the driver's seat as Dean rummaged around in the trunk before appearing in the passenger seat holding a fork and a pie.

"Where did you get a pie?"

"Bobby's witch made it for him," Dean answered, shoving a full bite into his mouth.

"You couldn't wait until we hit a diner?"

"No."

"Are you insane?"

"Listen, say what you will about her, but that witch can make a mean pie!"

Sam's second clue occurred when they returned from the case to find Bobby home alone.

"She's not a hunter!" Dean bellowed.

"She ain't a civilian either Dean."

"That's not the same and you know it! You sent Mia out after a flesh-eating monster with nothing, but Rufus for back up," Dean said.

"Rufus ain't no spring chicken, but he's far from useless," Bobby retorted. "Besides, Mia's far better dealing with that crotchety drunk than I am."

"Where did you send them?"

"You can't be serious Dean," Sam interrupted. "She'll kill you for rushing in after her."

"I'm not leaving Mia to fight a Wendigo by herself."

"Rufus is with her!" Bobby retorted. "Listen, they're supposed to check in with me in about two hours. If we don't hear from them, I'll give you their location."

Watching his brother storm out of the house, Sam asked, "Think he realizes?"

"Not a chance in hell."

**** 2 Weeks Later ****

"Come on Sam," Dean whined as he navigated Baby down the one lane road. "I'm begging you. This is stupid!"

'Why?" Sam asked, his frustration leaking into his voice.

"Going to visit Mom's grave? Really? She doesn't even have a grave!"

"She's got a headstone," Sam answered, inhaling like Mia taught him.

"Put up by her uncle. An uncle we've never met. You really want to go talk to an empty grave put there by a complete stranger?"

Sam exhaled, "It's not…Dean that's not the point. It isn't about a body or a casket. It's about honoring her memory."

"You've never cared before."

"Yeah, well after Dad, it seems right, and Hermione agreed that it would help," Sam admitted unsurprised when his brother scoffed.

"So…what you're taking advice from Bobby's witch now? Its bad enough that you spend so much time with her?"

"Are you jealous?" Sam asked.

"Don't be stupid," Dean said glaring at the road. "Jealous? Why would I be jealous? She's just not trustworthy Sam. You and Bobby are just too blind to see it."

Both brothers drove for a mile in silence.

"Hey, what if we swing by the Roadhouse instead?" Dean asked. "We haven't heard from Ash in a while."

"That's not a bad idea," Sam admitted, recognizing a good compromise. "Drop me off at the cemetery and then I'll meet you there."

"Right…that's what I want. Making small talk with those people while I wait on you to show up. I'd rather deal with Bobby's witch. No thanks!"

Approaching his mom's grave, Sam's shoulders fell with each step he took. By the time he reached the headstone, his body felt heavily weighed down. Dean didn't attempt to join him, which was unsurprising. John never bothered trying to locate the cemetery, much less visit. Revenge was all he'd known.

"I think Dad would've wanted you to have these," Sam said, burying his father's dog tag next to her headstone. "I love you. Dean does too. Hermione says he's just rubbish at showing it. You'd love her. I think she's good for him…not that Dean has any clue."

Rejoining his brother, Sam realized Dean was standing next to a grave marked, Loving Father. Nearby a tree stood, dead. Next to it, a perfect circle of decay surrounded the grave marker.

"Angela Mason," Dean supplied. "Local college student who was buried three days ago. The grounds keeper doesn't have an explanation for the decay."

"What are you thinking?"

"Unholy Ground," Dean asked. "Honestly it's beyond me."

"Unholy…" Sam repeated, before his surprise cut him off.

"Evil can poison environments, right?" Dean asked. "Remember the farm outside Cedar Rapids? This could be the sign of a demonic presence or Angela's spirit?"

Sam nodded, pulling his phone out and dialing Hermione's phone number, "Dean's got a potential case. Any chance you can rule out necromancy?"

"Who is that?" Dean demanded as Sam waved him off.

"Yeah give me a second. There did you get the photo? No…we left our guns in the car. Should we be armed?"

A loud crack permeated the still air of the cemetery, causing both men to jump, and slip into defensive positions.

"That's why," Hermione answered grinning at them. "I don't enjoy being shot."

"You called her?" Dean demanded. "Seriously?!"

"Neither of us are familiar with necromancy," Sam said before pointing at Hermione, "She, however, is, which means we could eliminate an entire field of research. Come on Mia, this way."

Sam directed Hermione to the grave in question, while ignoring Dean's grumbles. He watched, fascinated as Hermione pulled her wand out and began casting spells around the area. He never could look away from the way she broke scientific laws without batting an eye. Only when she suddenly swore did Sam snap out of his trance.

"Find something?" Dean asked, his voice possessing an edge to it.

"Not here," Hermione answered. "Can we get a motel room?" Both brothers exchanged a glance, neither hesitating to follow the witch back towards the Impala. Bobby and John and raised them too well for either to ignore their instincts. The drive to the nearest motel was silent, save for Hermione insisting they share a single room that had no adjoined one.

Once inside said motel room, Hermione flicked her wand in complicated patterns while muttering under her breath and turning in circles.

When she finally stopped, Dean asked, "What'd you do?"

"Wards," Hermione answered. "Privacy, protections, subverting our presence, along with a series of wards preventing break-ins, and repelling necrotic magic from entering."

"What happened in that graveyard that's got you so spooked?" Dean asked.

"No one is in that grave," Hermione answered, biting her lip.

"Could it just be an empty casket?" Sam asked. "Our mom's is just a headstone."

"Girl died in a car crash," Dean answered. "There's no reason to not bury her body."

"Necromancy isn't inherently evil,' Hermione blurted out.

"Great. That's exactly what you want to hear…not 'inherently evil," Dean muttered under his breath. "What does that mean exactly?"

"The School of Necromancy explores the cosmic forces of life, death, and undeath. It's essentially manipulating the energy that animates all life."

"I feel like you just pulled out a book on Dungeons and Dragons," Dean said.

"Well…they had a muggleborn on the staff," Hermione admitted. "They were bound to get something right. Regardless, much of my people's healing magic is necrotic, though few realize it."

"Based on your reaction, it's not what we're dealing with," Sam concluded.

"No… It's death magic," Hermione answered unprepared for the anger that suddenly coursed through Sam.

"You said magic can't bring back the Dead!"

"You asked her about it?" Dean demanded. "Why the hell were you asking about Death Magic?!"

"Why do you think Dean?! Dad just died. Wouldn't you do anything to get him back?"

"What about the price? Exactly what would you be willing to pay?" Dean demanded.

"Well it's irrelevant! She lied to me, so I don't know what it would cost."

"Good! At least someone in this family is stupid enough to martyr themselves or let one of us do it!" Dean bellowed back at his brother.

"Hem hem," Hermione interrupted.

"Why did you lie to me?" Sam demanded, refocusing on Hermione.

"I didn't."

"You just said!"

"Samuel Winchester! Do you want an answer? Then stop bloody interrupting me!" Hermione ignored Dean's sudden smirk.

"Magic cannot restore life after death. Were I to 'bring John' back from the grave it wouldn't be him. It would be a shade…a pale shadow or reflection of what he once was, and it would drive you mad."

"You speak from experience?" Dean asked.

"I've seen the magic first hand," Hermione admitted. "I've helped destroy it too."

"So, the cemetery…"

"That grave is saturated in black arts, the source of the parlor tricks Borrowers claim to be magic. They ooze it when they cast or perform rituals. Best guess is that we're looking at an Inferi."

"A what?"

"A magically animated corpse."

"So, a zombie?" Sam asked.

"Yes, minus the craving of flesh. Usually the castor gives them specific instructions, though I don't know if that's the case here," Hermione admitted before brightening. "Bobby should have books about it!"

Before either Winchester could respond, Hermione disapparated from the hotel room.

"We?" Dean asked Sam. "She better not mean what I think she means."

The witch reappeared before Sam could respond and shoved a Tupperware container into Dean's hands before moving to the nearby table.

"Mia?" Sam asked, watching as she pulled several old booksfrom her bag, which Dean referred to as the Poppins Purse.

"I raided Bobby's library and fridge before leaving him a quick note," Hermione said.

"You're not staying," Dean said glaring at her. "Thanks for the head start, but Sam and I can handle the rest of the case."

"I'm better at research than Sam, especially in this field of study," Hermione said. "Besides, you'll get more information if you have Sam helping you out."

"Fine. Research from Bobby's," Dean suggested.

"The room's warded," Sam reminded his brother. "I highly doubt she'd leave a loophole for anything to get in."

Sam didn't bother smothering the smirk that bloomed on his face at the glare his brother gave him.

"Exactly, even your pie is safe," Hermione said nodding towards the container she'd shoved at Dean.


	5. Children Shouldn't Play Woth dead Things

Dean begrudgingly reduced his ire to mere grumbles once he realized Hermione had indeed handed him an apple pie. No doubt it helped that she kept replenishing it when his back was turned.

Dean and Sam hit the pavement while Hermione remained in the hotel room researching about what could be responsible for the death magic. Despite her initial assessment, Sam began doubting there was a legitimate case after speaking to Angela's father.

"Do you believe me now?" Dean asked after Angela's roommate Lyndsey confirmed that Matt had turned up dead. "Spirit haunting is still a possibility," Sam insisted, "Lyndsey did say the guy claimed he kept seeing Angela before his death."

"Would that cause the effects at the cemetery?" Dean asked.

"No. A restless spirit would need centuries to cause that much decay," Hermione explained. "Angela's only had a week. She wouldn't have enough juice let alone the control required."

"It doesn't hurt to be thorough," Sam argued as Hermione snorted from across the room where she was examining a map of connected sightings of Angela, and suspicious activities.

"I've already told you that grave is empty, but by all means go dig it up," Hermione said. Surprisingly, Dean wasn't inclined to go along, and Hermione watched in bemusement as Sam dragged him out the door. Their departure was conveniently timed, not that Sam had any idea she'd been leaving the motel to do her own sleuthing about town.

After first hearing Dean and Sam mention Angela's friend Neil, and describing him as shifty, the witch decided to organize a meet cute by "bumping" into the man. Perfectly planned and executed, Neil caught Hermione just as she tripped, which allowed her to heap compliments up on him.

Their second meeting entailed Neil rescuing her from two muggers, which she then insisted on buying him a drink as a thank you. That night she learned not only did Neil have an unresolved crush on Angela, but he was also her father's teaching assistant. Hermione was positive that tonight she could figure out where he was keeping the dead girl.

Unfortunately, while Hermione was off on her side project of "Use Neil to locate Angela," the Winchester brothers were returning to the motel room.

"Can't we waste it with a headshot?"

"No Dean," Sam answered, exasperation leaking into his voice. "Do you ever bother listening to Hermione when she talks?"

"Isn't that what you're here for?"

"Essentially, there's too much lore and all of it contradicts the rest. Legends vary from 'wild dogs have to eat its heart' to shooting it with silver bullets. One even claims you have to nail it down in its coffin in order to kill it."

"So essentially," Dean said grimacing at the imagery of the last legend, "You have no idea and we need to ask the witch?"

Sam glared at him as he wrenched the motel room door open.

"Mia! Got a quick question for you," Dean called out, following Sam into the room. When Hermione didn't immediately respond, both hunters pulled their weapons and did a sweep.

When it was clear Hermione was gone, Dean swore, "I'm going to gank that witch."

Once in the impala, Sam started rapidly dialing Hermione's cellphone. "She's not answering her phone."

"Does she ever? The girl is worse than Dad ever was about picking up," Dean said.

"Let's just think, if we find Angela, we'll probably find Mia."

"Stupid witch," Dean muttered as he pulled out of the parking lot. "Do you really think she went after Angela by herself?"

"I doubt it," Sam answered. "It's more likely she's following up on a hunch. Real question is where's Angela," Sam answered.

"Think she went after Matt's side piece?" Dean asked. "She killed Matt for cheating right? Lyndsey seemed really torn up about his death."

Sam and Dean barely managed to save Lyndsey from being stabbed with a pair of silver scissors. Emptying several rounds into Angela's back forced the dead girl to escape out of an open window. After ensuring Lyndsey was unharmed, the hunters chased Angela back to Neil's house.

"At least she's not with Mia," Dean muttered as Sam peered into the nearest window at Neil's house.

"About that," Sam said with a grimace. "Hermione's inside, with Neil and Angela."

"You're supposed to be better than Matt!" Angela shrieked from inside the house. "I break one rule and you've already replaced me?"

"Just calm down Angela," Neil said trying to placate the dead girl. Behind him, Hermione stood tense, with her wand already in her hand, prepared for a fight. Shrieking, Angela launched herself at Hermione, just as Dean threw open the front door, and emptied his clip into Angela's back. The momentum enabled the zombie to tackle Hermione, and knock the wand from her hand.

Before anyone could separate the two girls, a bright blue light suddenly encased both women and Angela howled in pain. Failing to escape from the blue and white flames licking at her skin, the dead girl continued to scream until she was nothing more than a pile of ashes at Hermione's feet.

Sam, Dean and Neil stared at Hermione with wide eyes as the blue flames receded from her skin and she swayed on her feet. Dean reached her as she crumpled, catching her just before she hit the ground, as Sam retrieved her wand. Swinging her up into his arms, Dean glared at Neil.

"Try not to summon any more dead girls back to life."

The blonde girl whimsically crossed the threshold of the rundown muggle motel room, following the cloud of nargles that had been leading her. The cloud of creatures teased and danced down the decrepit corridor until they disappeared behind the cracks of a motel room door. Stepping forward, Luna lightly tapped on the door until it creaked open to reveal a giant clad in plaid flannel.

"Can I help you?"

"No," Luna said pushing her way past him. "I'm here to help you, though it is kind of you to offer."

"Hello Dean," She greeted, as though the man wasn't defensively crouched in front of Hermione and pointing a gun at her.

"Sam tell me you know who this is," Dean growled, not removing his eyes from the girl in front of him.

"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Sam yet," Luna answered, pulling her wand out of her hair and casting diagnostic spells over Hermione as her blonde tresses tumbled down.

"How do you know our names?"

"Bobby talks about you incessantly," Luna said absently as she studied Hermione's left forearm.

"You know Bobby?" Dean asked, his voice still harsh.

"Of course. Hermione lives with him. It would be rude of her not to introduce us."

"Do you know what's wrong with Hermione?" Sam asked.

"She's been hiding," Luna answered. "It's heavily strained her magical core. We're not meant to run from our wounds, butconfront them."

"English woman!"

Rather than verbally respond to Dean's demands, Luna unraveled the magical knot anchored to Hermione's forearm. Instantly, all of Hermione's scars reappeared as the glamour charms dissipated into nothing. Dean launched himself to his feet as he stared at Hermione's appearance.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Lies do not become us," Luna answered. "Hermione's been hiding her scars from herself."

"Bobby did say she'd been on the front lines," Sam said to Dean.

"Seriously?!" Dean asked. "I thought he was just trying to distract me from going after her and Rufus."

"Oh no. Hermione was instrumental in the war, but it came at a high cost. She anchored multiple glamour charms to create a semi-permanent concealment charm. They aren't designed to be used as such. Once her core sufficiently recharges, she'll wake up. Don't let her perform magic for at least a week afterwards."

"She'll hate that," Dean said. "Dibs on telling her."

"Take her to Bobby's. She'll heal better at home." Before either of the boys could thank Luna, the witch disapparated.

"I'm really starting to hate that trick," Dean muttered. "Come on Sam, I'm sick of this town."

Driving back to Bobby's was a silent affair. Dean kept the radio off, insisting they be able to hear Hermione if she woke up. Sam agreed, while keeping his smug grin to himself.

"What did you idjits do?" Bobby growled upon seeing Dean carrying Hermione inside the house. "What in tarnation?!"

"Just let me get her upstairs, yeah?" Dean answered. While Hermione slept, the Winchester boys caught Bobby up to speed.

"Little blonde girl…screams of fae?" Bobby asked, as Sam nodded. "Yeah, that's Luna. She visits Hermione from time to time. Scares Rufus to no end."

"Really?"

"Mia says she's got seer blood in her, and that she can see beyond what the rest of us can. It freaks Rufus out."

"She seemed crazy."

"I'd keep a lid on that talk. Mia won't stand for anyone insulting Luna," Bobby told him.

"Well right now she's asleep so it's fine."

"Not anymore," Sam said nodding towards the doorway where Hermione stood. Dean was across the room and scooping her up before anyone realized he'd moved. Plopping her in chair, he retreated to lean against the nearest counter.

"Mia, how are you feeling?" Bobby asked.

"Like I just got hit by the Knightbus and then set on fire by a dragon," she moaned before laying her head on her arms.

"What were you thinking?" Dean demanded. "You weren't supposed to leave the motel room! What if she'd killed you?"

"She didn't," Hermione answered.

"That's not the point!"

"Dean," Sam said warning him. "Hermione, he does have a point. What if Neil had taken advantage of you?"

"Neil's harmless."

"Damn it Hermione! You've been unconscious for days," Dean said swearing at her. "Luna said you stressed your magic and that you're benched from using it for the next week."

"What?"

"She said you've been exhausting yourself with glamour charms," Sam explained. "She had to unravel them entirely."

Hermione's eyes widened as she caught sight of her forearm.

"We don't care about you having scars, but you can't resort to magic for everything."

"I'll be fine."

"You're right," Dean said. "Because I've already locked your wand up along with that poppins bag you carry around."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"You're not my keeper Dean!"

"I am for the next two weeks," he shot back.


	6. No Exit, Part 1

Bobby and Sam spent the next two weeks watching in morbid fascination as Hermione complied with every single command Dean gave her. Well, at least, she did after initially rebuking every single order Dean attempted to issue and frustrating him to no end. Her sudden compliance only occurred after he informed Hermione, she'd lost her wand for an additional week. Due tothe impressive number of vases and dishware Hermionesubsequently launched at Dean's head, with incredible accuracy, Bobby and Sam made themselves scarce.

After Hermione finally exhausted herself, albeit it was more due to running out of stuff to destroy, Bobby dispatched Dean to go into town to purchase a new set of dishes. It was a practical measure to separate the two hotheads, as well as recognizing the damage was beyond magical repair, even had Hermione still possessed a wand. While Dean was running errands, Hermione found herself handed a baseball bat and told to go smash windows of junked cars that Bobby had no intention of fixing.

"How bad will it be when she gets her magic back?" Sam muttered as he helped sweep up the shards of broken glass and ceramic. Across the kitchen, Bobby had already abandoned the dust pan for a beer, and tossed one to Sam.

"He won't be alive, that's for damn sure," Bobby answered wryly. "That said, I don't think we're going to survive the two of them dancing around each other."

"It's certainly entertaining," Sam said opening the beer.

"Hazardous you mean. I've had hunts where I was safer than I am in my own damn house. If I didn't watch Dean rile her up, I'd assume the girl was possessed. She rarely lost her temper before meeting you two idjits."

"Don't lump me into it. I'm not the one constantly antagonizing her."

"Yeah," Bobby conceded. "Just wish I knew if I'd have a house left after they finish with each other."

"Any idea what Dean's in for?"

"No, but then again I've never been stupid enough to piss her off."

"Has Rufus?'

Bobby snorted into his beer, "As if he'd risk his free alcohol supply. Why do you think he insists on hunting with her? She hands him a full bottle of Johnny Walker Blue every time he sees her."

"She mentioned something about that," Sam said laughing. "Never thought I'd see the day when Rufus turned into a softy."

Bobby didn't answer, choosing instead to return to cleaning up the debris in the kitchen. The rest of Hermione's magical recuperation wasn't nearly as explosive. Despite the power Dean currently had over Hermione, he remained surprisingly level headed and subdued. Wisely he'd trusted no one with the information on where he'd stashed Hermione's wand or bag. Hermione spent her time creating a potions pantry and organizing lists of ingredients and finished concoctions she wanted to keep on hand in case of emergencies. When the task was as completed as could be without her magic, Hermione reorganized Bobby's library. Afterwards she started cleaning his study until he threw her out of the house entirely.

Hermione didn't waste a second when Dean finally returned her wand and beaded bag. She promptly hit him with a sharp stinging hex on his inner thigh.

"Pity, my aim is a bit off," Hermione sneered, stepping over his prone body and walking back into the house. A loud crack told them she'd disapparated.

"You got off easy," Bobby told him as Dean hobbled back to his feet. Grumbling he went straight to work on his car. When he finally returned to the house that evening, Dean found a perfect apple pie cooling in the fridge. He never hesitated before eating it.

The next morning, Dean was up earlier than usual, but hadn't managed to beat the rest of the group awake. He barely managed a civil greeting before going straight out to the Impala. Hermione smirked when Bobby and Sam suddenly bolted out of the house when they heard Dean's agonized screaming moments after he'd left.

"Son," Bobby called out, still approaching with caution. "Where's the fire?"

Dean was hysterically circling the pristine Impala, with no obvious threat in sight. Despite appearances, Bobby remained prepared to fire his shotgun. Sam did a quick sweep, and shook his head to tell Bobby he found nothing.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"Look at my car!" Dean bellowed, gesturing wildly towards it.

"It looks good?" Sam asked, his voice tilting upwards. He and Bobby exchanged confused glances. "Dean it looks better than it did before the crash."

"Good? Good?" Dean asked pivoting to glare at his brother. "Is that a joke? I swear I'll shoot you Sammy."

"Dean, you sure you're feeling okay?" Bobby asked, glancing between him and the Impala several times. "Your brother's right, the car looks near perfect."

Hesitating, Bobby asked, "How much did you drink last night?"

"None, Jesus…Bobby!" Dean shouted. "This isn't a joke. I'm not crazy. I haven't had anything since that pie I ate before hitting the hay. Pie isn't going to make me delirious nor is it some demonic evil capable of destroying my baby."

"Food poisoning?" Sam asked glancing between his brother and Bobby. "It tasted fine, although I don't know why that would effect the state of my car!"

"Who made it?" Bobby asked sarcastically, and instantly, Dean's fury erupted.

"I'm going to gank her."

"Balls," Bobby swore as he took off after Dean towards the house. By the time he and Sam reached it, Dean was already bellowing at Hermione while she just stared at him utterly indifferent.

"Is nothing sacred?!"

"Can I help you with something Dean?" Hermione asked, her tone syrupy sweet. "You seem a bit riled up."

"How could you?"

"I simply have no idea what has you so worked up."

"You ruined Baby."

"Exactly how would I destroy your car? You sleep with it overnight; besides I haven't had a wand for a fort night."

Dean glared at her, "The pie…you poisoned the pie."

"Did I?"

I will shoot you," Dean swore.

"Good luck with that," Hermione said grinning at him smugly. "I'm afraid you won't able to pick one up for about two weeks without a nasty shock to your nether region, but by all means put that to the test."

Following Hermione's revenge for withholding her magic, Bobby decided that a separation for Dean and the witch would be the best solution, and promptly kicked the Winchesters off his property.

"Go to the Roadhouse and check in with Ash. Find a case, I don't care, but I don't want to see Dean for at least a week," Bobby informed Sam, who agreed that separating the two was necessary to prevent one of their deaths. He honestly didn't know who would win that ultimate fight.

Unfortunately, neither Sam or Bobby realized the depths of Dean's stupidity, which meant they failed to prevent him from demanding Hermione make him a pie for the road. Sam knew his brother was in trouble when she smiled sweetly. Before Dean could react, she'd hexed him, and he spent the next two hours sneezing up raw ingredients involved in baking a pie. It was simultaneously the most hilarious and gruesome revenge Sam had seen in his life.

Bobby then made Dean clean his kitchen before letting either brother hit the road. Sam couldn't stop replaying the image of his older brother sneezing up flour or the subsequent series of violent sneezes that the salt triggered when it forced itself out of his brother's nose. Dean, predictably, was brooding the entire drive down to the roadhouse.

The moment they walked into the bar, realizing Jo and Ellen were in the middle of a screaming match, each regretted it. Unfortunately, before they could disappear, both women spotted them.

"Not a great time boys," Ellen said.

"No, I want to know what they think about it!"

Dean and Sam exchanged uneasy looks before the Harvelle's started fighting again. Wisely, both hunters kept their mouths shut, even when another family walked in to the bar. It wasn't until a phone call Ellen was forced to take provided a break in the argument.

"Take it," Jo insisted thrusting the file towards Dean. "It won't bite."

"No, but your mom might," Dean retorted before reluctantly taking the file and sifting through it. "Ash put this together?"

"No, I did," Jo said before diving into the details of the case.

"We've hit the road for less," Sam mentioned. "Plus, Bobby did tell us to get lost for a week."

"You boys take it then," Ellen said walking back into the room and ignoring Jo's shriek of outrage. "Wait…Bobby kicked ya'llout?"

"His niece is visiting," Sam lied smoothly. "He wants to avoid all hunter activity around her."

"Well at least someone's got their head on straight," Ellen said with a nod of approval. "Now boys, take that file and get out of my bar."

Pulling up to the building in Philadelphia that Jo had identified as the source of the murders, Sam and Dean climbed out of the Impala.

"I feel bad for snaking Jo's case," Sam admitted as they headed inside the apartment that the latest murder occurred in.

"She put together a good file," Dean agreed, "but can you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so."

They continue investigating the apartment silently when Sam calls Dean over, "Do you see this?"

"Holy crap."

"That's ectoplasm," Dean identified. "We're dealing with a spirit with serious mojo."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I've only seen this stuff twice in my life."

They both head out of the apartment and froze when they heard voices.

"Ellen's going to kill her," Sam muttered to himself, watching asJo walk right up to Dean and slide her arm around his waist. His eyes widened as Dean awkwardly laugh and slap Jo's ass. Sam never had seen Dean look so uncomfortable over a girl's attention. Regretfully Bobby wasn't here to witness this once in a lifetime occurrence.

"If it's good enough for Dean-o, it's good enough for me!" Jo declared in the voice of a southern belle. It was all Sam could do not to laugh at his brother's absolute disgust. He outright had to turn away when Dean slapped Jo's ass again obviously trying to get her to stop.

"Does your mother know you're here?" Dean demanded, the moment Sam shut the apartment door behind them, outright ignoring Jo when she spoke.

"She thinks I'm in Vegas. Ash is laying a credit trail down for me," Jo answered dismissively. "Did you honestly think I'd just let you steal my case?"

"We didn't steal it and you shouldn't be lying to your mom," Dean said as the girl stared at him in obvious disbelief.

"As if you always listened to John," Jo shot back.

"Yeah and he's dead," Dean said. "Which is exactly my point. Not listening, running head first without a plan, it all just gets you killed!"

"Dean," Sam said trying to intervene. "What's done is done. Jo's here. There's no point in yelling at her. Let's just the work on the case and do it carefully."

"At least someone has their panties untwisted," Jo muttered as Sam and Dean shot her glares. They all stared at Dean's phone when it suddenly started ringing.

"Well, that's probably Ellen. Game over," Dean said flipping it open. "I can explain."

"You're damn right you can explain!" Hermione bellowed into his ear.

"Mia?" Dean asked, turning away from Sam and Jo. "What's wrong? Bobby said you weren't allowed to call me for at least a week."

"Sam," Jo said, her voice forcibly sweet. "Who's Mia?"

"She's Bobby's niece," Sam answered, suddenly grateful when his own cellphone went off. He answered it so quickly he didn't look at the caller id, "Bobby I swear I didn't tell Mia to call him."

"Well that's all well and good," Ellen said over the phone, "but I'm not Bobby, nor do I have any idea who the hell Mia is, though it doesn't take a genius to figure out your brother's doing something he shouldn't be. Jo'll be devastated. Speaking of my wayward daughter, she with you?"

"I haven't seen her," Sam answered staring down Jo who was glaring at him. "I'll call you the moment she shows up, alright?"

"You do that, and slap your brother upside the head for Bobby won't you? Sounds like he needs it."

"Will do," Sam agreed.


	7. No Exit Part II

"Dean will be awhile," Sam said, glancing at Jo as he unrolled the building's blue prints across the table. Despite her obvious curiosity, Jo turned away from Dean to study the maps with Sam. Absentmindedly, the young blonde twirled her knife as she looked over the details of the building.

"Place was built in 1924 as a warehouse," Jo informed Sam, who nodded at the new information, and encouraged her to continue. "A few months ago, it was converted into apartments, but prior to 1924 it was an empty field."

"So, easy guess is that somebody died bloody in the building," Sam concluded, glancing up to see Jo already shaking her head.

"Nope. Clean as a whistle. I've checked every record I could get my hands on, mortuary reports, obituaries, police records, I even had Ash hack some of the local databases."

"Alright," Sam said nodding at her due diligence. "Next most logical source?"

"Cursed object?" Jo asked him. "Someone could have brought one into the building, and it never left."

"Which means we'll have to scan the entire building," Sam saidexhaling at the knowledge that the case just became more difficult. "Anywhere we can get into will have to be checked with the EMF's, hopefully it'll be enough."

"Sounds good," Dean said, rejoining them after hanging up the phone. "Jo and I will take the top two floors."

"We'll cover move faster if we split up," Jo argued with a glare.

"Non-negotiable," Dean answered with a glare of his own. "Come on, let's get started. The sooner we find the spirit the sooner we can send you back to the roadhouse."

Two hours later, despite their previous disagreement about how to search the building, the pair managed to cover a decent amount of ground as Sam searched the lower levels. Dean and Jo searched silently, each glaring at their EMF emitter's lack of response.

"Are you going to buy me dinner?" Jo demanded breaking the silence.

"What are you on about?"

"It's just, if you're going to ride me this close, the least you can do is buy me dinner," Jo shot back with a glare.

"Oh, that's hilarious," Dean said, stopping to turn around and glare right back. "It's bad enough that you managed to convince Sam to lie to your mom, but if you think I'm letting you out of my sight…have you really failed to notice you fit this spirit's type?"

"Of course, I have," Jo answered. "It's exactly why sticking together is stupid."

"Seriously? You want to play bait?"

"Quickest way to draw it out and you know it," Jo answered as Dean shook his head muttering under his breath. "What?"

"I'm already regretting this, and I'm not even considering it." "I am getting tired of your chauvinist crap," Jo snarled. "You really think women can't do the job?"

"Sweetheart, this ain't gender studies. Women can hunt just fine. In fact, Sam and I've hunted with one of the best. It's amateurs that can't hunt. A mistake on a job by a pro can result in death. When it's someone who doesn't know what they're doing, it guarantees it."

"So no, I don't care that you're a girl. I care that you've absolutely no experience besides half-baked romantic notions from barflies. Instead of learning the job, you snuck off and lied. That's step one on how to get killed."

"Now you sound like my mother," Jo muttered dismissively.

"Like that's a bad thing?! Do you not realize the first rule about hunting is not to do it alone? You hunt by yourself means you have no backup. If something goes wrong, then that's the game. You're not going home."

"What's your point Dean?"

"You've got options! No one in their right mind chooses this life," Dean shouted frustrated. "Hunters are damaged before they even start this life. Even I'd love to do something else."

"You love the job," Jo said, pausing in surprise.

"That's my point. I'm a little twisted, just like every other hunter!"

"You don't think I'm a little twisted too?"

"No," Dean answered. "You obviously miss your dad, but you've got exactly what every hunter is desperate to regain. Jo, you've got a mom who worries about you and wants more for you. Those are good things that you don't throw away."

Jo suddenly jumped in surprise, pivoting quickly away from Dean.

"What?"

"I'm positive that something just touched my leg," Jo answered

"You smell that?" Dean asked, as he shined a light on her denim clad shins.

"What…is that a gas leak?"

"No…it's something else, but I recognize it. Just having trouble placing it." Dean answered as the EMF suddenly lit up. "Mazel Tov, you just found your first spirit."

"It's inside the vent," Jo answered as Dean handed her a screwdriver to pull the grate off the wall. Reaching inside, Dean found a clump of blonde hair.

Pulling it out of the vent, he looked at Jo and grimaced, "Someone's keeping souvenirs."

The next morning, Sam returned from his coffee run to inform Dean and Jo that another girl had disappeared around dawn.

"Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Apparently her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn. There are cracks all over the plaster, walls and ceiling with ectoplasm left behind," Sam explained while Dean swore.

"The building history is clean. It doesn't make any sense," Dean said, as Jo studied the photograph of the field.

"What if it's from next door?"

"What?" Dean and Sam asked turning to look over at her.

"Look at the windows of the building next door," Jo said handing them the photo. "They've bars on them. Think we should call Ash?"

A few minutes later, Jo had the information, "Moyamensingprison. Built in 1835 and torn down in 1963. Executions took place in the field next door. You won't believe who was one of those slated for death, Herman Webster Mudgett."

"H.H. Holmes?" Sam asked staring at her. "Seriously? That's a bit of a coincidence."

"Who is he?" Dean asked.

"Multi-murderer was coined just for this guy," Sam answeredwith a grim look on his face. "America's first serial killer, and rumored to be Jack the Ripper from England. Victims of choice, pretty petite blondes, which he used chloroform to kill."

"That's what I smelled in the hallway," Dean said, eyes brightening in recognition. "Simple salt and burn?"

"No," Sam said shaking his head.

"Dude was so paranoid about someone desecrating his body that he's encased in concrete," Jo explained. "Didn't he build some nest in Illinois?"

"Chicago," Sam answered. "He supposedly called it Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory. It had trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits…there were even secret chambers in the walls to keep his victims alive for days. He let some suffocate, others starve."

"Teresa could still be alive then," Jo said, eyes brightening at the news. "She's probably trapped in the walls."

"I'll get the sledgehammers," Dean said resigned. "A couple of crow bars too."

Part II

"Fuck!" Dean swore, slamming his fist into the wall. "Sam? Sammy?!"

Dean forcibly removed himself from the interior of the wall, moving back the way he and Jo had originally come from. Once he was out in the hallway, he started dialing Sam again. Dean remained so focused on finding Jo, he barreled over a tiny brunette.

"Dean! I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Hermione? What the devil are you doing here?" Dean demanded even as his phone rang.

"You've got my bag, remember?" Hermione asked. "Did you honestly think I couldn't track you down? What's happened? Where's Sam?"

"Tell me you didn't talk to Ellen?"

"What?" Hermione asked. "No. I did a locator spell, and then I apparated. Where's Sam?"

Before Dean could answer, Sam's voice filled the hallway, "She's with Dean right now. Hey where's Jo, Ash caved to Ellen and she wants her on the phone, now."

Dean swore again and held his hand out for the phone, "Ellen, I'll get her back."

"Back?" Ellen asked. "Back from where?"

"The spirit we're hunting snatched her. She'll be okay, I promise I'll get her back."

"Yeah that's not the first time I've heard that from a Winchester," Ellen snarled. "If anything happens to her…I'm taking the first flight out. See you in a few hours."

"Damn it," Dean said staring at the phone. "I knew I shouldn't have left her alone."

"Sam, do we have anything of hers?" Hermione asked turning to the taller hunter. "I can do a locator spell, which will find her a lot faster than just searching."

"Back in the apartment we're staying in," Sam confirmed. "Come on, let's regroup Dean."

As they headed back, Sam caught Hermione up to speed on the case.

"I have an idea on where to look for her," Sam said after Hermione finished the locator spell. "Underneath the foundation there's an old sewer system. It looks ancient, as if it's not been used in years."

"Let's go."


End file.
